


cherry sour

by queenhomeslice



Series: that cocky bastard [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Dangerous Situations, Dirty Talk, F/M, Light Choking, No Romance, Pining, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Wall Market (Compilation of FFVII), fat reader, fucking in an alley, plus size reader, sex in exchange for intel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29006403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: You've been actively seeking out Reno for almost a month after your first random encounter with him. The second time is...really, really different.
Relationships: Reno (Compilation of FFVII)/Reader, Reno/Reader
Series: that cocky bastard [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127945
Comments: 25
Kudos: 42





	cherry sour

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy VII; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> _______  
> Okay I went and did the thing. Reno/reader part 2. Please read the tags--this is not fluffy or romantic. Reno is dangerous and good at his job; and he takes things very seriously underneath the playful exterior we saw in the first story. Take care of yourselves. (But everything is consensual...just rough.)  
> _______

You’re usually not one to be mopey. Sure, you get lonely from time to time, but your nice apartment has been your source of joy for many years; and you’ve spent a long time growing into yourself and becoming comfortable with who you are without having to be in relation to someone else. “Homebody”, that’s you—and you prefer quiet, low-key outings when you _do_ feel the urge to venture outside. You play it safe; after all, why shouldn’t you? You live in Sector 8, a booming upper plate full of arts and culture and rich people throwing money around like it’s going out of style. All of your needs are met. You’re privileged. You have food, a roof over your head, a cushy job, and a relatively easy life. 

Except. 

Except, it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve seen the brash, cocky Reno of Shinra’s infamous Turks; and truth be told, you’re kind of missing him. In a surprising turn of events, Reno had actually woken you up before he’d left your apartment, fucking you again nice and slow before taking advantage of your shower and heading off to god-knows-where. Since then, you’ve made actual attempts to run into him, frequenting bars and clubs both above and below the sector plates, actively trying to hunt down the fiery redhead, even though you _know_ it’s a bad idea. 

You’ve made your friends happy, at any rate, meeting them for dinner and drinks out, all while having your own secret ulterior motives. You’ve taken a couple of nice guys home since, and the sex has been fine, but...Reno is still in the back of your mind, with that exposed chest, those gorgeous turquoise eyes, that shit-eating grin that just _does_ things to the space between your thighs. 

There’s really only _one_ major place you’ve avoided thus far: Wall Market, and even in your chase of Reno, you’re still not sure about wandering down there. But you know your friends would start to question your foray into the infamous red light district, and they would _definitely_ try to talk you out of chasing down a Turk of all people—so finally, one Tuesday afternoon, after having a lazy morning in, you decide to get dressed and take your chances, hoping that at least in the daylight, things might be marginally safer. You slip your pocket-sized can of mace into your purse, just to be safe, and only carry a little cash with you. You decide to wear some comfortable walking sandals and a sundress that shows off your shoulders and your cleavage, _just_ in case you run into him. You realize you’ve got it bad, but you’re long past caring. A swipe of red lipstick completes your outfit, and you head off to Sector 6 and its slums below the plate. 

You’ve only been here a couple of times before to run quick errands for your boss, but the place still gives you weird vibes. But not many people are giving you a second glance, which is good. You shoulder your purse a little tighter and try not to wander around looking lost. There’s a gym, a bar, The Honeybee Inn, a pharmacy, a materia shop, a diner, and the Corneo Colosseum, among other things; and there also seem to be endless dark alleys with seedy goings-on. After checking out some of the more brightly-lit and marginally nicer-looking places of the Market, you begin to feel discouraged. You decide to pop into the diner for a to-go cup of coffee, figuring that you need to just cut your losses and get out before nightfall, or at least before someone notices that you’re definitely not from around here. 

However, luck does finally seem to be on your side today; as you step out of the diner with your ice coffee, sipping the bitter liquid liberally as you pass yet another damp, dirty alley. 

“C’mon, you can’t keep secrets from me, yo,” rings a familiar lilt. 

You pause in your tracks, turning to face the narrow space between red brick walls, with its rows of dingy lights, dumpsters, and faded, torn posters. Your feet move towards the sound, hardly believing what you’re hearing, coffee cup shaking in your small, chubby hand. 

There’s a high-pitched buzzing sound, as though from a high-voltage wire, and a muffled _oomph_ followed by what sounds like someone collapsing against one of the oversized (and overfull) dumpsters. “Not so big and bad now, huh, asshole?” comes the mocking tone. “Psh, you’re not worth my fuckin’ time anyway. If you won’t talk, then maybe I’ll just drag you to Rufus Shinra and you can confess to him yourself.” 

There’s a panicked voice that screams “No, please, _anything_ but that--!” before it’s cut off with another hum of electricity, followed by a high-pitched moan that eventually fades into nothing but labored breathing. 

Reno stands up to full height on the other side of the dumpster, holding a long rod over his shoulder and looking quite worse for the wear—there's streaks of blood across his sharp cheekbones, blending in with the red marks around his eyes, along with scuffs of dirt and bruises along his neck, and a chalky white imprint of a boot squarely on his right bicep. Reno sighs and shakes his head, tapping his shoulder with the rod in his left hand. He taps his left ear and mumbles something into it—you can make out the name of the other Turk you vaguely remember from the bar: Rude, the bald man with glasses; but not much else. You stand there, half paralyzed with fear, and the other half with pure liquid lust as you sip the last of your coffee, slurping around the ice chunks at the bottom of the clear plastic cup. 

Reno blinks, and then as though in slow motion, turns to the source of the noise near the opening of the alley. “ _Oh_ ,” he says, face warping from slight annoyance to mischievous in a matter of seconds. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that my little toy from before?” Reno licks his lips as he saunters away from his half-dead victim by the dumpster, tapping his rod on his shoulder and slipping his free hand into his pants pocket, staring you down like a hawk as he approaches you, racking his gaze over your body. “What’s little miss high class doing down here in the slums, yo?” 

“I was looking for you.” 

Reno stops, cocks an eyebrow, and tilts his head. “Looking for little ol’ me? Now, hm. What could a Sector 8 middle class gal like you want with one of Shinra’s Turks?” Reno doesn’t stop walking towards you, eventually backing you to the grimy brick wall of the alley. You glance to the side, looking out into the main drag of the market—but the passers-by don’t notice you. Isn’t that what you wanted? 

You feel dirty, slim fingers on your chin and Reno turns your head up to face him; and it’s at this moment that you lose control of the coffee cup, the condensation providing the perfect escape for the plastic to fall to the ground and spill the ice onto the stained concrete below. Reno crowds his slender body up against yours, and up close, you can count the number of dirty smudges and blood streaks on his face 

“You didn’t answer me, y’know,” Reno says, licking his lips again. “Why are you looking for me?” 

You swallow hard. “I, uh. I just...wanted to see you again.” 

“Oh, did you?” Reno laughs darkly—and holy shit, you’re wondering why the danger of the situation is turning you on. You’d just witnessed Reno beating someone to a pulp, and you don’t have to guess much about the rod that Reno is still holding over one shoulder. You’ve seen enough weapons to know that that is probably the source of the cruel electrical torture. 

“Well, now you’ve found me,” says Reno. “Unless you’re not quite being truthful with me, and I would tread carefully from now on. Sure, we had our fun, but down here in the slums, it’s different. I’m _working_ , and my job ain’t pretty and cush like yours is, yo.” He grips your chin tighter, making you even weaker at the knees than you already are. “C’mon, spill it.” 

You gaze up at Reno, and even though his voice and actions are gruff, you think you can see a hint of softness behind his bright eyes—or, maybe it’s just wishful thinking. (It’s probably the latter, but you let yourself believe the lie.) You realize that he has to put on a show because of where he is. He's on _patrol_ , and to have his partner—or worse, his superiors—find him in a cutesy relationship with some random woman probably wouldn’t blow over well. 

“Well, I _might_ have been looking for you because...because I wanted to fuck you again.” 

Reno smirks, all lazy and confident, white teeth glittering under the dim street light overhead. “I could probably arrange that, but it’s gonna be on my terms.” His eyes flick down to your cleavage—hook, line, and sinker. You _knew_ that would draw him in. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? Our last encounter was a little rushed, doll, and I was kinda tipsy. But if you tell me everything I want to know, I promise to make it worth your while.” Reno slides his hands down to your chest and squeezes. “So, little toy—who do you work for?” 

Your breath hitches at Reno’s rough grab of your breast, but the pain goes straight to your already-wet sex and you can’t help but let out a low whine. “Why do you need to know who I work for?” 

“Oh, so you’re acting _cute_ , thinking _you’re_ in control here.” Reno turns his head to the side and spits; looking down at the ground, you can see saliva and blood pooling on the dirty ground below. Reno’s hand slides up from your breast to your throat—he doesn’t squeeze, only rests his hand there as a threat. “I’m looking for intel on AVALANCHE, little toy. You heard of ‘em?” 

“Well, I—I mean they’re the eco-terrorist group, right? They bombed the Mako reactor a while back at Shinra.” 

“There’s a good girl,” says Reno, sliding his hand back down, kneading your breast hard. 

You feel your head get light and your whole body tense up. “That’s all I know.” 

“Uh-huh.” Reno relaxes his hand, but doesn’t move it. “Again. Who do you work for? What do you do?” 

“I’m a—a bookkeeper. In Sector 8, on top of the plate.” 

“I know where you live. I fucked you in your own bed.” Reno leans down to your ear and drops his voice. “Now be a good girl and answer my _fucking_ question.” 

“My boss is Reginald Green,” you manage as Reno pulls back to stare at you in the eyes again. “Mr. Green is a wealthy investor.” 

“A bookkeeper for Mr. Green,” Reno repeats. “Dunno know if that name is on my radar. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about him?” 

You lift your chin up a little in defiance. “What’s in it for me?” 

Reno stares for a second before letting that cocky smirk return to his face. “You think you can play my game, don’tcha? How about this. You answer this question, and I might let you suck my cock.” 

You can’t help but salivate at his offer; you hadn’t got to taste him last time, and it’s all you’ve been thinking about doing since he left. “I’m not s-sure what it is Mr. Green _does_ , exactly,” you confess. That’s true. Mr. Green is rich, and he pays you well to manage his accounts, but... “Where he gets his money, I’m not sure. I just write his checks and do his taxes, make sure his accounts are in order. Run the occasional business errand.” 

“Is Mr. Green a friend of Shinra?” As Reno asks the question, he sticks his rod out toward the wall beside you and lets go of your breast, using that free hand to fumble with his belt. “Kneel.” 

You can’t do anything except obey him. You kneel, wincing a little at having to place your purse on the ground in the alley— _backpack purse next time,_ _ol_ _' girl_ , you mentally note. But you busy yourself with unfastening Reno’s belt and his slacks, eyes going wide as you see the bulge in his gray boxer-briefs. You stare up at the redhead. 

“Go on then, give it a little kiss,” says Reno—but you can see his chest heaving a little. He’s not as unaffected as he’s pretending, even though he’s being much more threatening than his first time with you. 

You hook your fingers in the waistband of his underwear and roll them down to the tops of his thighs; gripping behind his legs to steady yourself, you begin to kiss and lick up and down his half-hard length. 

“Atta girl—ah, _shit,_ ” Reno exclaims, sighing. You don’t look up, but imagine him tapping on the earbud in one ear. “Rude, I’m workin’, yo! I’m interrogating a highly suspicious woman.” A pause. “Yeah, yeah, I know! You don’t gotta... _okay_ , c’mon, lemme finish this one thing...oh, fuck off!” He laughs in good humor. “I’ll call you when I’m done!” 

The Turk looks back down at you—you've gotten his thick cock up to full mast now, and you’ve got your painted lips around the first few inches of him, sucking at a lazy pace. “Oh, that’s good,” says Reno, thrusting his hips forward, forcing your mouth open so you can take more of him. “I won’t ask again. Is Mr. Green a friend of Shinra Power Company?” 

You slide off of Reno’s length, holding him in your hand in the absence of your mouth. Reno’s adam’s apple bobs hard with a harsh swallow. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “He’s never said anything _critical_ of Shinra, at least not to _me_.” 

“Does he vocalize support for AVALANCHE?” Reno asks as his cock throbs in your hand. 

You shake your head. “Not that I’m aware of, no.” 

“Suck,” says Reno, annoyed. He places his hand on the top of your hair and guides you how he pleases with little regard to your comfort or your gag reflex. 

Still, the whole ordeal is hitting every one of your wildest fantasies and kinks. Someone could see any minute; someone could be _watching_. People are probably _already_ watching you—hell, Wall Market probably has this happen all the time. There’s probably another couple doing the same thing at the other end of this very alley. And the more you work your mouth and tongue over Reno’s hard length, the more aroused you feel. Reno lets you choke on him for several more minutes before he yanks your hair and slides out of your throat, leaving you to cough and gag for air. 

“Is this what you wanted? To have me fuck you in some dirty alley?” 

You look up at him through moist eyes and lick your lips. “Yes.” 

“Goddammit,” Reno says. “I didn’t need this...this distraction, y’know.” 

“Are you finished asking me questions?” 

“No,” Reno growls; and with his hand still in your hair, he hauls you to your feet, ignoring your whimpers of pain. He pushes you against the wall, facing it, and covers your back with his. You cry out loud as you feel his teeth sink into your nearly bare shoulder, lips closing around your bra strap and the thin spaghetti strap of the bright yellow sundress. 

“Please, Reno,” you beg as you feel his bare cock grinding against your ass. “Please fuck me.” 

“Will you sing for me, little toy?” Reno spits. “I’m real fuckin’ tired, and I don’t want my day to end on a sour note, yo.” 

“I’ll tell you anything,” you sob onto the brick. “Please, anything, just put your hands on me again. Fuck me raw, I don’t even care.” 

“Fuckin’ shit,” Reno curses, sliding his hands up under your dress. In one swift motion, he hooks his dirty fingers into the top of your underwear and slip shorts, yanking them down to your knees and hitching your dress up around your waist. “Again with the shorts,” he says, momentarily more amused than irritated. 

“Told ya. Thick thighs, rubbing together...” 

“Can’t have Sector 8 princess rubbed red,” Reno says, moaning low and dirty as he slides his thick cock into you. “Shit, this pussy. Sucking me off got you this riled up, huh?” 

You groan at the stretch, crying as you buck back against him. He fills you up so perfectly, it’s insane; it’s everything you’ve been missing in your life. “Yes,” you confess. “Fuck, Reno, I told you, I came looking for you...” 

“You found me, and aren’t you being such a good girl, cooperating with the Turks,” Reno says. He’s still bracing himself on the wall with his electric rod still in his hand; the dangerous weapon only adds to the overall threatening aura, which makes you that much wetter. You clench your muscles around him as he sets a languid pace. “So, let’s continue this interrogation. Has Mr. Green ever done anything that might be seen as a threat to Shinra?” 

You reach down under your dress to rub at your own clit, only adding to the waves of pleasure that are coming from Reno’s hot length sliding in and out of you, unprotected. “I, _fuck_...I really don’t think so? But. He does send a lot of money to addresses in Sector 7...some of them under the plate.” 

Reno slows his pace, kissing along your exposed back. “Oh, good girl,” Reno purrs. “We’ve been digging in that sector for a while. Tell me,” he says, with a particularly pointed thrust of his slender hips. “Does he send checks to people, or to businesses? What could a wealthy man be doing, sending money to the slums? Surely he’s not _just_ a kindly old philanthropist.” 

A wanton moan escapes your throat as you rub your clit with purpose, feeling yourself edge closer and closer to release. “I--sometimes people,” you confess. “Individuals. Every month. There’s, ah...a Mr. Wallace, and a...a Mr. Biggs...and the bar...Seventh Heaven...” 

“Oh, _fuck,_ my pretty toy,” Reno says, sliding his hand back around your throat and increasing the pace of his thrusts. “I think you’ve just told me _exactly_ what I needed to hear. Do you want your reward for cooperating so fuckin’ nicely?” 

“Yes, Reno, please,” you beg, feeling the grimy bricks dig into your smooth cheeks—but you can’t be bothered to care about your appearance right now. You feel the familiar warmth and tingles of pleasure, radiating from your core outwards to the rest of your body, and you quiver around Reno’s cock as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Fuck--fuck me!” you scream, not caring who hears you. Let the whole of Sector 6 hear your betrayal in exchange for Reno’s beautiful body. 

“Yes, _________,” Reno grunts, _finally_ saying your name. You weren’t even sure that he’d remembered it, and hearing it from his dirty, bloodstained mouth only makes you clench your muscles tighter around him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good, I’m gonna give you what you want--!” Reno buries his face in your neck and comes with a loud cry, biting into your skin again as his hips stutter out his release. He shudders for a couple of minutes before finally stilling. 

As he pulls out, you can feel his cum dripping out of you and down your thick thighs. You feel all at once cold and empty. Reno pushes away from the wall and leaves you to pull up your shorts and underwear and to collect your purse from the damp ground. (Ugh. _Gross._ This is definitely going to have to be professionally cleaned.) You turn, still a little teary-eyed and flushed; but Reno is already wandering back to the dumpster across the alley to look at his previous victim. In one fluid motion, he lifts the beaten man up over his shoulder and taps him with his rod. 

“I think you’d better come with me,” Reno says to the man, voice horribly void of emotion. 

It’s scary. It’s also incredibly hot. He turns to look at you one last time, shooting you that cocky, confident smirk that you’ve been seeing in your dreams almost every night since your first encounter. He licks his lips and nods. “Your cooperation with Shinra is appreciated, pretty girl,” he says. “I’ll be seeing you.” 

And Reno turns, whistling a light tune as he swaggers out of the alley on the opposite side. You see the bald man in sunglasses appear at the alley’s other end, and the two Turks shuffle off together, without giving you a second glance. 

This _is_ what you wanted, isn’t it? 


End file.
